


Taken by Surprise

by samstjames



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Other, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-31
Updated: 2009-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samstjames/pseuds/samstjames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a PWP - no summary required.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken by Surprise

**Tilte** \- Taken by Surprise  
 **Author** \- Sam St. James  
 **Disclaimer** \- characters are not mine

Maybe, Gwen thinks, she should have given it more thought when she realised that Jack and Rhys had started to phone each other quite regularly, especially when Rhys dismissed all her inquiries about what they were discussing. The only thing she was able to get out of Jack was that they were „negotiating“, with no mention of what was being discussed either. Her relief that the two most important men in her life were finally getting along better, had been greater than her curiosity, so she'd let the topic drop rather quickly. Perhaps she should have been worried when Rhys enthusiastically agreed to her suggestion that they invite Jack over for dinner while Ianto was away on family business and even more when Jack consented immediately. In both cases she'd had the compelling arguments ready, but hadn't needed them. 

Now, Gwen is sitting between Jack and Rhys on the sofa in their living room and feels a bit oppressed by the tension. They've had dinner together – Rhys had cooked – complete with appetiser, red wine, of which Gwen maybe had one glass too much, and dessert. Everything has been nice and relaxed. Jack told some hilarious stories, to which Rhys made slightly sarcastic but basically friendly comments here and there, and they've all laughed a lot. And then, when they settled on the sofa and things should have been even more comfortable, there's suddenly this inexplicable amount of tension. 

Things get even more awkward when Rhys' hand lands on her right thigh, compromisingly close to her crotch – but after all he's her husband – and then Jacks follows on the other thigh, fingers lightly massaging. Gwen tenses, fearing that all hell will break loose. She doesn't mind the occasional, playful flirt or harmless grope ( _purely professional_ or _accidental_ as Jack never fails to swear) at work, but _this_ , on their sofa, in their living room, with Rhys sitting on her other side, _this_ is a declaration of war. 

To her confusion, nothing happens and Gwen lets slowly out the breath that she has been holding. The hands on her thighs seem to get heavier with every minute passing. Jack is getting bolder, while Rhys obviously doesn't mind and that's pretty mind-boggling, really. 

Jack leans so close to her that she can feel his breath on her cheek. His lips are almost touching her and his hand is brazenly rubbing her through her trousers... and _Jesus Christ_ is she excited by it. 

Gwen swallows, tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Did I miss something?" 

*** 

Gwen half walks and is half carried by the Jack and Rhys towards the bedroom. In their eagerness they nearly stumble over a pair of her shoes loitering on the floor where she dropped them two days ago. In what feels like the blink of an eye, they're all naked and on the bed; Gwen between the men on her knees. Rhys is at her back and Jack in front, giving her a full view of his beauty. It's all kisses - on her body, not her mouth though - and caresses, very deliberate, with Jacks erection pressing against her stomach, Rhys' digging into her back. She's already excited from the thrill of what's happening. Her head is spinning a bit, her heart hammering in her chest, a fluttery rhythm. 

When did she ever consent to something like _this_? 

ack is playing with her breasts, sucking at the nipples, one hand expertly working between her wet folds, stroking her clit, teasingly circling her entrance, occasionally penetrating her with one slender finger. Rhys is kissing her neck, one of his large hands splayed out on her stomach. He holds her with ease in her half-kneeling position over him. From time to time his erect cock slides across her buttocks, the skin of it velvety and hot. His other hand is very intently administering, massaging generous amounts of lube into her arse. 

Gwen can't keep her whole body from trembling violently, her toes curl and she vigorously chews on her bottom lip. This is all overwhelming. Too unexpected. Too many hands, too many stroking, probing fingers. 

Her skin feels unbearably hot and every touch, every contact with the two men makes it worse. She's not sure she can stand it. A whimper escapes her when Jack deftly sucks on her left nipple, his teeth grazing her skin as he bites down. 

Things are happening quickly, maybe too fast for her liking, and while Rhys' keeps intently sucking at the sensitive spot behind her ear, she wonders exactly how long Jack and Rhys have been conspiring, as this has clearly been in the work for some time, carefully planned or it wouldn't be so perfectly orchestrated. _Negotiating my arse!_ Of course they had been negotiating, negotiating who would get what and how he'd get it. Even though she feels a bit degraded to be thought of as mere piece of flesh, she can't help but shudder at the idea of being desired as much. 

"Guys... can... can we slow down... just a bit." It's a breathless stutter and she's actually surprised she managed to say such a coherent sentence. Everything seems to swim a little with Jacks and Rhys' fingers and mouths working their combined magic on her. 

"Shh... Don't worry, we've got you," Jack whispers reassuringly, his breath hot on her ear, while Rhys, who has been licking at the lobe tightens his grip around her protectively. Obviously, neither one understands her problem or the heat that's burning her from the inside, boiling in her stomach. 

Gwen wants to scream _That's not the problem! I'm going to faint from the sensory overload!_ but the words never make it past her lips. Instead they are replaced by a moan as Rhys starts to enter her, inching slowly into her arse. 

They've done that before but _good God.._. The sensation when his thick prick slowly stretches her causes her to arch her back involuntarily. Jack is watching her every move, lecherous eyes raking over her naked body and it's absolutely turning her on; not that she needs it. The almost feral noises that escape her in the process are unfamiliar, but arousing even to her own ears. 

Jack has temporarily shifted his attention away from her vagina and breasts and she is grateful for that, because she isn't sure she would've kept it together otherwise. Now he is gripping her tightly, his hands at her waist, slowly lowering her onto Rhys' cock because her legs have long since given up supporting her any longer. 

Rhys must be sitting behind her on the bed, his legs slightly spread. She's not sure how he holds himself upright but his hand still firmly presses against her belly. He uses it to adjust the angle of her pelvis and to keep her back against his broad chest while he groans in pleasure. 

Gwen bites her lip to suppress the scream that's threatening to escape her, when her husband thrusts his hips upwards a little, finally pushing all the way into her with a swift motion. _Oh God..._ The muscles in her stomach contract, tugging almost violently at her insides as she revels in the instant of non-movement after his cock slots into place inside her and they both take a second to catch their breaths again. 

Rhys' breathing is ragged as he trails wet kisses down her back. Gwen leans her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes. For a moment she's totally lost. 

This is not only physically challenging, but also emotionally problematic. On the one hand, there's her marriage, her beloved husband and on the other hand is her boss. The possibilities to develop things differently had been there almost from the beginning. Despite mutual attraction she had never even really kissed Jack. Now, out of the blue, he's going to fuck her in a joined attempt with her husband. Gwen can only marvel at Jack's persuasion skills. 

A bead of sweat trickles from her temple, down her neck. Jacks hands move from her hips, up her sides, brush the underside of her breasts. He obviously wants her attention and he gets it. The drop of sweat has further found its way over her chest and Jack smiles at her as he leans down to lick it up when it reaches the crevice between her breasts. He's staring intently at her, his bright blue eyes focused on her face, sending shivers down her spine. 

Jack languidly laps at her skin, moving to her breasts again, playing with the painfully hard nipples with his tongue. Gwen sees colourful spots at the edges of her field of vision as he sucks a breast into his mouth and twirls the nipple of the other between thumb and forefinger just when Rhys starts into a rocking motion. He pants against her neck and from time to time bites down on her shoulder, hard enough that he's probably leaving marks. 

Rhys has become a bit soft around the middle during the last few years, but he's reassuringly solid to her, her safe haven. Jack, by contrast, is athletic, lean and so very desirable it sometimes leaves her speechless. She trusts both men with everything she has, but being surrounded, sandwiched between their larger bodies makes her feel petite – smaller than Rhys alone usually does – and a bit frail. The care with which she is handled, their tenderness leaves her in awe, despite the progression being too fast for her tastes. 

Jack nibbles at her flesh, leaving love-bites on her chest, and stomach, and thighs, while Rhys steadily thrusts into her, his lips practically glued to her scorching hot skin. After taking his time to explore her in this position Jack inches closer, his cock brushing her thigh. 

Rhys' movement stops and even without any of the men breathing a word Gwen knows what's to follow. The thought alone sends a rough tremor through her. 

"Shh, steady. Relax love." Rhys lips are grazing her ear with every word, the hand at her stomach pressing her just a bit more but that doesn't keep her insides from trying out summersaults. She has, of course, fantasised about sleeping with her boss – who wouldn't, when working with someone as overtly sexual as Jack? - but now, confronted with the very real prospect of not only sleeping with Jack, but also double-penetration, she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little intimidated. 

"You're so beautiful Gwen... and dripping, _all for me_ ," Jack murmurs, his lips only millimetres away from hers and it feels like it's the sexiest thing she has ever heard. "I like that." 

There are goose-bumps crawling their way down her back at these words and she hears Rhys groan and Jack chuckle when she tenses for a moment. 

Jack kisses her then, for the first time really. His tongue greedily invades her mouth and his teeth tug at her lower lip. She's distracted until he presses at her thighs, spreading her legs obscenely wide apart. His fingers tenderly stroke her swollen labia, a leisurely touch that leaves Gwen panting, muscles quivering. For a moment she can smell her own arousal, heady and musky and... she's so ready for this. _Oh God..._

Rhys rocks his hips forward, a motion that causes her to slip and slide a little, making him moan and her gasp, before he pulls her backwards. Without giving her a moment to catch her breath Jack pushes into her and her whole body shakes uncontrollably. 

"Hngh..." It's an incoherent gurgle and Gwen doesn't know what she had wanted to say anyway. _Hell..._ she's not sure she remembers how to breathe. 

Jack grunts, his cock sliding against Rhys', separated only by the thin wall inside of her. She's stretched and filled and overwhelming doesn't even come near to describing the sensation that's raging through her. 

Then the movement starts; rolling, as if she were on a boat thrown around by waves, riding a particularly wild sea. Even the tiniest shift of weightmakes her gasp, the rigid cocks pressing and pushing inside of her. 

Jack's in control of the pace, as he has been from the start. He thrusts into her forcefully, sending her breasts bouncing a little, moving her on Rhys who only slightly undulates his hips in counterpoint. Looking for something to hold on, she wraps her arms tightly around Jack, his sweaty skin now sliding against her front with every movement. 

They both talk to her, their husky voices mumbling soothing words or maybe obscenities; she'll never know because she's not listening. Usually she and Rhys don't talk much during sex because they already know each other so well, there's no talking needed. When they try something new, experiment a bit – and sometimes the outcome gets filed away as: let's not mention that again, ever – that's different of course, but she's still slightly surprised at the constant flow of words that's now assaulting her from both sides. 

Jack, to whom she's clinging like she's afraid of drowning if she lets go for just a second, murmurs into her left ear and Rhys talks into her right, that is when they're not gasping, or moaning, or nibbling on her skin, obviously attempting to devour her. She's not understanding anything and will never know if they're talking dirty or coherent at all or if it is in English or in Welsh. Her overloaded brain is too focused on sorting through the physical sensations, on the thrusting and rocking and... _it feels so good_. 

Gwen is high, absolutely high, her thoughts nothing but a wild chaos in her head, words strung together without meaning or sense and she wonders if she's been drugged. She's lost to sensation and her vision is slightly blurred. Not that she needs to see anything. All she needs to do is feel and sway. Nothing else matters anymore. 

Her body seems to move on its own, or maybe she is being moved, rising and falling with Jacks rhythm, riding both men at once. Every movement is accompanied by wet noises and she feels like she's melting, liquefying. 

Gwen is sweating profusely, her body completely slick with sweat. Hair clings to her head in damp strands and everything seems so hot, so warm, _burning_. And then the smell! The whole room reeks of sex, and she's trapped in the middle, where it all culminates and fuses. 

Rhys' panting becomes desperate, his movements frantic. "Jack...", he groans, pleading, while thrusting up into her. It's a bit frenzied and almost hurts. 

This is the first time that either man acknowledges the presence of the other. Jack and Rhys may be fervidly fucking her and _whoa_ they're damn good at it, but this obviously isn't about the three of them. It's is only about her and the thought makes her giddy. 

Gwen's clouded brain barely registers Jack's nod and his grin in answer to Rhys plea, but she almost screams in pleasure at the increase in pace and penetration when she gets shifted again. Jack is hitting just the right spot inside her with every powerful thrust. 

Things are obviously getting a little rough but she can't bring herself to care. When this is over she'll be terribly sore, and battered, and covered with dark red to purple love-bites, and she craves more. 

Jack somehow manages to sneak a hand between them, fumbling for her clit in the wet and sticky mess where they're all joined. He rolls the swollen flesh between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it like he pinched her nipples earlier. 

That's all it takes. Everything becomes a blurry mess of primal screams, but she's not sure who is screaming – her? Rhys? Jack? all three of them? - and grunts and groaning and ragged, jerking movements, contracting muscles and hot wetness. 

Pleasant warmth spreads throughout her body and Gwen is floating, absolutely weightless and lightheaded. Maybe she really has been drugged. 

"Gwen?" Someone's talking to her but even if her life depended on it she couldn't say if it's Rhys' or Jack's voice or if it only exists in her head. "Gwen? Are you okay?" 

"Ask me again when I'm back in my body." She's not sure if she's really saying it and it's not like she gives a damn. All she wants at the moment is to keep floating, to lose herself in the gentle rocking motions she experiences when both men shudder through their orgasms. 

For a while nothing happens, the motion carries on and Gwen just rests her head against Jacks shoulder and feels Rhys slowly calming breathing against her neck. She finds Rhys' hand that is still laying on her stomach and squeezes it gently. Her body is tingling all over. She's still high and reluctant to do anything else apart from just _be_. 

Then she is being moved, carefully, gently. Open-mouthed kisses and lingering touches, and there's a sudden feeling of emptiness when first Jack and then Rhys slide out of her, lifting her, disentangling their limbs. 

***

They're lying on the bed, Gwen cuddled in the middle between both men, staring at the ceiling. No one dares to say a word, fearing that the carriage in which they've been riding will turn back into a pumpkin. 

Now that the afterglow and the euphoria endorphins are slowly fading away, her heart rate slows down to normal and her head clears slightly. Certain parts of her body begin to ache a little. She can barely move an inch even if she wanted to. It's the exhausted weakness of her muscles that's making her limbs heavy, pulling her down into the mattress. So she just indulges in the remnants of the haze a little longer, snuggling into the warmth between Jack and Rhys. 

The sweat on her skin is starting to dry, cooling her overheated body down. Gwen rests her head back, closes her eyes and tries to ignore the growing need for a shower. Bedsheet and bedclothes are definitely in for a wash too. 

"We really need to do that again." Rhys finally says, voice muffled by his mouth being pressed against her skin and all Gwen can do is turn and stare at him, wide-eyed. 

Jack, propped up on his elbows, caressing lazy circles onto her stomach, just grins back at them. "Absolutely, but we need a shower first. You think we three can fit into the shower together?" There's alarming enthusiasm in his voice and the look he gives her is incredibly lewd. 

"Yeah, might do." Part of Gwen is scandalised by Rhys' casual reply and the wink towards Jack, who is already half-hard again and pressing against her thigh. The other part is worried that she won't stand another round, and at the same time incredibly thrilled at the prospect. 

"Perfect." 

"Hey... I don't think I can even stand, let alone think about..." Before she can finish her protest Rhys kisses her. It's languid and intent and very effective in silencing her. 

Jacks answer is immediate and insolent, and belongs to the dirtiest things she has ever encountered. 

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart. We can carry you." 


End file.
